Rain comes racing down, unclear of its guiding paths.
Great souls convicted by will, them? Convicted by Mother Nature!
Roaring of gods, thunder strikes, rage inside the dark clouds.
Lightening burning through the night skies, without a plan,
Just but one goal, kissing the ground, fast.
Coming across a willow field, matching on in-between its trees,
You played to win, and no amount of life lessons taught you otherwise.
Not even the raging drops, to you it was challenge you needed to win.
Who wins, against a god?
Guided on live set, that whatever piece fell in place today, it was its place.
The night was cold, terrible things happened on its account.
Then the sense of disparity dawned, it meant beautiful things happened just as much!
So why were you so afraid, with every roar that drove in a chilling shiver?
Telling of a tale only you understood.
Amazing how sure you were of everything but!
She said you should move on, love someone new.
Nobody ever means to be hurt again, so you loved her in a new way.
To save yourself still, you loved yourself now, you’ll become that someone.
With each god’s strike, came the flashing lightening, bringing day before your eyes.
The night will be gone, ready to come back again.
The aching aftermath, will be seen, but not now.
For now, the runaway raindrops, deeply trace outlines of your pieces.
That will be placed differently, becoming a new you, to love.
For now, the walk is too tiring not to stop.
Carefully caring for your eyes, without inviting back the other drops!
A constant battle, as the roaring gods finish up, looms up.
Suddenly your knees, too weak to carry the heaviness, give up.
Cold air, rushing in your nostrils, reminds you of the hours.
Staring coldly into the night, the last of the burning lightning strikes through the horizon,
Finding strength, to carry yourself on, until her window was in your horizon,
The last drizzles, reminding you that you are alone, reminding you of the bunch your hands crunched on.
A last goodbye to her, as she opened the door for a hello!
For what it was worth, blocking thoughts of how you met, the flower shop.
While the night sobered up, she needed you to stay, even as her staggering words wanted you to leave.
How could you? On such a cold night, only hate was to be swallowed.
She grabbed your frozen hand relieving it from the little bunch of yellow spring roses.
Both sitting down on the porch, she drove herself underneath her place inside your arm.
Unsettled awareness of her soft nature crept in, just as Mother Nature was after her frenzy.
Things would be different, pieces placed differently,
A different hello, was the last hello you needed!